


I'd Love It if We Made It

by mayelisa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AKA the hospital AU I've always wanted, Alternate Universe - Medical, Drama, M/M, Medical Conditions, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Nurse Yuuri, Romance, and some comedy sprinkled in for fun, doctor Victor, there's a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2019-11-12 17:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayelisa/pseuds/mayelisa
Summary: As a nurse, Yuuri Katsuki thought he had seen it all, but nothing could have prepared him for when world renowned cardiac surgeon - and his inspiration for working in the medical field - Victor Nikiforov begins working at Yuutopia General Hospital.  As if that wasn't shocking enough, one of Yuuri's long-time patients is admitted to the hospital, possibly for the last time.  Can Yuuri survive a budding romance while maintaining a professional relationship with his patient in the face of death?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guys! I've finally gotten the chance to write the hospital AU I've been planning for _years_ and I'm so excited! I watch a lot of medical dramas, so a good portion of this will be loosely based off of those, but I also work in a hospital so some of it will be based on my own personal experiences. As with any medical drama there are bound to be inaccuracies; I work in an outpatient oncology clinic, so I likely won't be super accurate when it comes to cardiac issues. I do a lot of research where I can, but please cut me some slack if you notice anything that's not 100% correct (or let me know so I can fix it!) There will also be a good amount of medical terminology/jargon, so be sure to check out the notes at the end of each chapter for definitions and links to sources I've used during my research.
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta [@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee) for your help, support, and the endless hours texting back and forth brainstorming for this.

It had been an unusually quiet day at Yutopia General Hospital; so quiet that the staff were murmuring about it being an ominous sign of things to come. There had been no new admissions, no codes to be called, and for once, all of their patients had been compliant with whatever orders their doctor had prescribed. Every medical professional knew that if the floor was quiet, it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

Yuuri Katsuki sat at the nurses' station of the cardiac unit, finishing up some charting he had left over from a patient earlier that morning when he heard the distinct sound of sneakers squeaking against the waxed linoleum floors.

“Yuuri! Yuuri, did you hear the big news?!”

Glancing up from the computer, Yuuri saw his best friend Phichit skidding around the corner of the nurses' station. Gripping the edge of the desk, Phichit panted as he fought to catch his breath. Quirking an eyebrow, Yuuri regarded Phichit for a moment before turning his attention back to his charting.

“Whatever it is, I don't want to know,” he remarked dryly. His gaze flicked to the clock in the corner of his computer screen. Only fifteen minutes until his shift was over and he was free from worrying about dealing with argumentative patients and their families. Or worse, egotistical doctors who thought they were God's gift to mankind.

Phichit gasped dramatically. “But Yuuri, this is primo gossip here! I ran all the way from Peds to come tell you!”

“Is that why you look all sweaty and gross?”

“I do not!”

Sighing, Yuuri swiveled in his chair to face Phichit. Resting his elbow on the desk, he propped his head on his palm. “Phichit, my shift is almost over and I still have to finish these charts. Is it really that important?”

“Yes! Do you really think I would have ran all the way over here if it wasn't big news?”

Yuuri thought for a moment before disregarding the temptation. It's not like Phichit couldn't tell him later; they were roommates and Phichit always made sure to fill Yuuri in on all of the latest hospital gossip. Turning back to his computer, he began finishing up the rehab referral form for a patient set to be discharged in the morning.

Phichit puffed his cheeks out in indignation; how could Yuuri ignore him at a time like this?! Normally he would wait until he got home to tell him, but this was too important to wait. Grabbing the back of Yuuri's office chair, he spun him around, earning a squawk of protest from his friend.

“Phichit, I swear to God if I don't get to leave on time today –“ Yuuri's words became muffled as Phichit squished his cheeks together.

“Shut up and listen to me Katsuki. This is important.” Yuuri grew quiet at the sternness of his friend's words. Once Phichit was certain that Yuuri's attention was focused on him, he withdrew his hands.

“What is so important that you had to run all the way over here to tell me?”

“Chief Feltsman just announced that Victor Nikiforov is coming to work at our hospital,” whispered Phichit. “They haven't sent out an official announcement to staff yet, but Chris told me that he's starting here tomorrow.”

Yuuri's eyes widened, his chest growing tight with excitement and nervousness. “Vic– _The_ Victor Nikiforov is coming here?”

“Yes! I told you it was primo gossip!” crowed Phichit triumphantly.

As Phichit gloated, Yuuri shakily brought a hand to his mouth as he processed the news. Victor Nikiforov, _the_ Victor Nikiforov, world renowned cardiac surgeon and prodigy was coming to work at Yutopia General. Sure, they were an academic facility just outside New York City and had seen their fair share of hot shot doctors fresh out of their residency, new residents still trying to figure out what they want to specialize in and where they fit in the food chain. But Yuuri had never had even the slightest inkling that Victor Nikiforov would come to work at their hospital.

Before Yuuri could properly process the news, an alarm sounded at his station, alerting him to a patient pressing the call button. Glancing at the display screen, he groaned; it was Mr. Jenkins in room 304 and Yuuri knew it was never an easily filled request when Mr. Jenkins was involved.

Rising from his chair, he leveled a scathing glare at Phichit. “I hate you so, _so_ much more than you can ever imagine.”

Phichit took a step backwards, laughed nervously as he glanced at his watch. “Oh yeah...look at the time... Gotta go!”

As Phichit all but sprinted down the hallway, Yuuri yelled after him, “You're dead when I get home tonight! You hear me?!”

All he received in response was a wave from over Phichit's head as he shouted back, “Looooove you!” before disappearing around a corner.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Yuuri exhaled harshly as he came to terms with the fact that he would be working overtime for the fifth night in a row that week. Plastering on a smile, he made his way into room 304. “Mr. Jenkins, what can I help you with tonight?”

*~*

Amid the bright flashes of cameras and pointed questions from reporters, Victor smiled. It was practiced, easily camera-ready at a moment's notice, but Victor knew it never quite reached his eyes. As he shook Yakov Feltsman's hand for another photo – this time for the front page of the local newspaper – Victor silently wished for the press conference to end but he knew it wouldn't for quite some time.

Media attention was something Victor had learned to grow accustomed to. As one of the youngest cardiothoracic surgeons in the world and with numerous awards, publications and clinical studies under his belt by the age of 30, it came with the territory of being 'famous' in the medical field.

What he hadn't expected was his best friend since medical school, Christophe Giacometti, to call him up in the middle of the night begging him to come to the hospital he worked at to assist on a complicated case. At first, Victor had been reluctant to leave his current position as assistant professor at an academic hospital in Switzerland, but once Chris had forwarded details of the case to him his mind was made up. A week later, here he was. Moved into a tiny apartment in the center of a small town in rural New York, half of his belongings still in boxes, and a 2-year contract signed under the keen eye of Yakov Feltsman.

“Glad to have you with us Nikiforov,” grumbled Yakov as he clapped a hand on Victor's shoulder.

“As am I,” quipped a seductive voice from behind Victor. Slim arms snaked around Victor's waist, a head of blond hair coming into view in Victor's peripheral vision.

Chuckling, Victor turned to embrace his friend. “Chris, it's so good to see you! How long has it been?”

“Four agonizing years,” pouted Chris. “I wish you could have come to visit more often.”

Shaking his head, Victor sighed. “I do as well, but you know how clinical trials go. You have to be available to kiss any investor's ass at any given moment.”

Laughing, Chris slung his arm around Victor's shoulder as he purposefully lead him away from Yakov's side, the Chief's scowl not going unnoticed. Victor's shoulders relaxed, losing some of the tension that had built up during the press conference as he was steered away from the prying eyes of reporters.

Noticing the absence of Chris' usual scrubs and lab coat, Victor asked, “Are you done with your shift?”

“Why do you ask? Are you trying to lure me back to your new apartment with those pretty blue eyes of yours?” questioned Chris, a mischievous glint to his eye. “Sorry to report I'm a taken man now.”

Victor hummed, playfully jostling Chris with his shoulder. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink and catch up, but if you're a taken man now...”

Before Victor could finish his reply, Chris had already whipped out his phone to call his boyfriend. A scant moment later, he pressed his thumb to the 'end call' button and winked at Chris. “I'm all yours, _mon cher_ _í_.”

As the two made their way towards the main entrance of the hospital, Victor took in his surroundings. It seemed like a typical hospital; high ceilings, clean white walls with posters advertising different specialties and services plastered here and there, and the harsh fluorescent lighting Victor had become accustomed to over the years. He did appreciate the minimalist design they had chosen for the waiting rooms; the sage green chairs melded nicely with the light wood wainscoting that wrapped around the lobby of the emergency room, creating a calming atmosphere. Passing by the check-in desk in the emergency room, Chris waved good night to the admitting nurses, winking at several women who swooned at his attention.

“You know you could be reported for sexual harassment if you're caught flirting with the nurses,” said Victor with a chuckle. He found it a relief to see that Chris was still the casual flirt he had been all throughout medical school. At least some things never change.

“That? That's harmless,” retorted Chris. “They all know I'm batting for the other team anyway. It's just a way to keep moral up.”

“And to get the nurses to deal with patients you don't want to take on.”

“That too,” admitted Chris with a wry smile.

As the emergency room doors opened, Victor nearly missed the loud gasp that sounded behind him. Turning around, he scanned the room for anyone potentially in need of assistance as his mind almost instantly switched into what he fondly referred to as 'doctor mode'. What he found instead was two male nurses: one with deep tanned skin, black hair and wide eyes who was gesticulating wildly towards him, the other with brown hair and blue-rimmed glasses, who was busy clamping a hand over his friend's mouth and hissing something in irritation. Victor relaxed, amused by the angry whispering between the two men. Pivoting, he made to turn back to Chris but he stopped when the man with glasses turned to glance at him.

The man blushed fiercely as their gazes met, his gaze dropping almost instantly. Bowing his head, he grabbed his friend's hand and dragged him past Victor and Chris. As they passed, Victor nearly missed the darker skinned man whisper, “ _It's Victor Nikiforov –_ ” before he was dragged out of earshot.

Chris chuckled, resting his palm against his cheek as he watched the two nurses make their way towards the employee parking structure. “Seems like word that you're here is going to spread faster than you had hoped, my dear.”

“Seems that way,” replied Victor dumbly. His gaze was trained on the man with brown hair as he continued to try and quiet his friend, who was now waving his arms manically in the air. His attention was drawn back to Chris as he slipped an arm into Victor's.

“Now, about that drink?”

~*~

The next morning, Victor found that Chris had been right about word of his arrival spreading fast. Draining the last dregs of his coffee, he set his mug onto his desk and clicking his laptop shut. Swinging his lab coat on, he adjusted his tie, pocketed his stethoscope and tucked his glasses back into their case. Taking a deep breath, Victor prepared himself for the inevitable whispers and not-so-subtle glances as he made his way down the hall towards the cardiac wing. The whispers were warranted; his reputation in the medical community proceeded him and because of that, he was already granted a private office (something that irritated the tenured providers to no end) and a medical student to mentor. Victor supposed that after a few weeks, the gossip would die down and things would return to normal in the hospital.

Greeting his medical student, a young man named Otabek Altin, they made their way to their first patient of the day. Otabek was quiet, with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor; Victor instantly pegged him as the type to be both incredibly competitive amongst his peers as well as overly prepared for presentation.

Knocking on the door to room 113, Victor let himself inside. The inpatient room was small, scarcely furnished with the exception of a work station computer stashed in the far corner of the room beside a recliner, a small tray for meals and the hospital bed. An elderly man sat in the recliner, gently rocking the chair in a calming swaying motion as if it were second nature. He regarded Victor for a moment and Victor nodded in greeting to him before turning towards Otabek.

“Otabek, please tell me about the patient.”

Otabek pressed a few buttons on the tablet he carried with him, pulling up the patient's chart and pertinent information. “The patient is Yuri Plisetsky, 18 years of age, currently admitted for status 1A heart failure. An LVAD device had been implanted 3 years prior to admission and he had been doing well, but complained of device malfunction one week ago. He is currently on the transplant list, but so far UNOS has yet to find a match.”

Turning his attention from Otabek, Victor regarded Yuri, who sat upright in his bed, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Wires connecting him to a heart monitor snaked their way out of his hospital gown, a pulse oximeter on his left index finger. Victor noticed the wires protruding from Yuri's side, connecting to a small device no larger than a laptop that was haphazardly hidden amongst the blankets on his bed. A quiet galloping sound, muffled by blankets, was the only indication that the young man before him was in heart failure. Despite his small frame, his green eyes flashed with what Victor could only describe as defiance.

“Who the hell are you?” he spat.

“Yuri, be polite!” scolded his grandfather, though the reprimand was weak, as though he didn't have the heart to discipline his grandchild.

“Ah, where are my manners? This is Otabek Altin, my medical student.” Victor motioned over to Otabek before extending his hand towards Yuri, smiling. “And I'm Dr. Victor Nikiforov. I'll be taking over your case from today forward.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! Life got super crazy with me starting a new job and just a general lack of motivation. I won't bore y'all with the details, but I'm hoping to be able to update on a regular basis so keep an eye out for more updates!
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful, amazing beta **[@spicenee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicenee/pseuds/Spicenee)** for helping me with this chapter and not letting me give up on this.

Stifling a yawn, Yuuri trudged out of the elevator and towards his department's locker room. Because of Phichit's antics the previous night, he had been forced into overtime yet again. He was almost certain that Celestino would reprimand him, citing that the department was under financial constraints and he shouldn't be working so much overtime. Swiping his badge, he pushed the door to the staff locker room open. Moving on auto pilot, he took a swig of the last of his morning coffee before dumping the cup in the trash bin beside the doorway and heading towards his locker.

Shrugging out of his sweatshirt and jeans, he paused, hand reaching for his last pair of clean scrubs for the week at the sound of excited whispers. Eyes narrowing, he peered around the corner of the lockers to find several nurses from the night shift conversing in hushed voices. Rolling his eyes, Yuuri returned his attention to the task at hand as he snatched his scrub pants out of his locker. The night shift staff were notorious for gossiping like a pack of bored housewives and he made it a point to stay out of their conversations lest he be dragged into their drama.

Pulling his scrub pants up over his hips, he froze in the middle of looping the drawstrings into a knot as parts of their conversation pierced his sleep addled thoughts.

“Did you hear that Victor Nikiforov is working on the floor?” whispered one nurse excitedly.

Another nurse scoffed before replying in a bored tone, “Yeah and I'm the Queen of England.”

“No, I'm serious! I saw him in the lobby last night talking with that hot ER doctor. You know, the one with blond hair?”

“And how am I supposed to believe that _the_ Victor Nikiforov is actually working on the floor with the rest of us? Wouldn't he be above that?”

“I hear he was brought in by Chief Feltsman for his expertise on a complicated case.”

“Ah, you mean that young kid in heart failure?”

Sucking in a breath, Yuuri's eyes widened. Scrub top falling from his hands, he rounded the corner to confront the other nurses. “Are you talking about Yuri Plisetsky?” he demanded.

“If you're talking about the angry blond kid with a foul mouth, then yes,” responded one of the male nurses in a bored voice. “If you ask me, he should learn some better manners.”

“Be nice!” shushed the eldest of the nurses. “You know you'd be angry at the world too if you were dealt the cards that poor boy has.”

Swearing under his breath, Yuuri turned on his heel to snatch his shirt off the floor. Tugging it over his head, he shoved his badge and other necessities into his pockets before jamming his glasses back on and slamming his locker shut. Flinging the door to the locker room open, Yuuri dashed down the hallway towards the nurses' station. Ignoring the greetings of his co-workers, he quickly logged onto the computer and pulled up the list of admitted patients he was assigned.

His blood ran cold when he stopped on the one name he had hoped he wouldn't see on his assignment list: Yuri Plisetsky.

Breathlessly, Yuuri opened the chart to check the admission notes hoping that it was a minor hiccup in the boys' recovery. He bit his lip as he read the ER doctor's admission note, pulse hammering in his ears as he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he read the phrases “acute chest pain and shortness of breath” and “LVAD malfunction”. Slumping in his chair, Yuuri let out a long breath. Pushing the darker thoughts to the back of his mind, he furrowed his brows. He had to maintain a professional demeanor, ensuring that all of his patients received the best care he could administer and letting his emotions get the better of him wasn't the way to do that. Taking another deep breath, he rose from his chair and set about his morning routine of gathering medications and checking physician orders from the night before.

Nearly an hour and several patients later, Yuuri found himself standing in front of room 113. The sight of _Y. Plisetsky_ on the board beside the door made his heart sink, but he pushed the feeling of dread aside. Knocking twice, he opened the door and let himself in. His gaze swept the room and focused on the young man glaring at him from across the room. Before Yuuri could even greet him, he scoffed in disgust.

“Ugh, you again? Can't I get a different nurse this time?” complained Yuri.

“Well good morning to you too Yuri,” remarked Yuuri. He went about checking Yuri's monitors and leads, straightening wires and tubing as he went until they were set up the way he preferred. Glancing at Yuri while he adjusted the settings on the IV drip, he could tell that the teen had lost more weight since he had seen him last. “I thought we agreed that I wouldn't see you here again until we found a match,” he said quietly.

Yuri shrugged nonchalantly. “Guess my heart didn't get the memo.”

Glancing across the room, Yuuri noted the absence of Yuri's guardian. “Is your grandfather here with you?”

“He stepped out to get a change of clothes and some food that tastes better than this hospital shit.”

Humming in agreement, Yuuri made his way across the room to the large whiteboard mounted just below the television. Wiping the name of the night shift nurse off the board with the back of his hand, he quickly penned his name in its place. Scanning the board, he noted the space reserved for patient goals and stifled a laugh. Where the nurse had written “pain management” and “managing symptoms”, someone had haphazardly scrawled “getting the fuck out of here” in the corner.

Turning towards Yuri with an amused smile, he pointed towards the board. “I take it you decided Mila's goals for you weren't good enough?”

Yuri clucked his tongue in irritation, leveling a glare towards his nurse. “She's too happy all the damn time and her idea of a goal is stupid.” Yuri's gaze dropped to his hands, clenching them into the fabric of his blankets. “I don't want to manage my pain. I want to go home,” he whispered.

Crossing the room once again, Yuuri settled on the edge of Yuri's hospital bed. “I know you do. I don't blame you either. This place sucks.” When he garnered a weak laugh from Yuri, the tension in Yuuri's chest eased slightly. Patting Yuri's knee, he rose from the bed. “We'll do everything we can to get you home quickly, but don't rush things okay?”

“Fine,” sighed Yuri. “I guess if I'm going to be stuck here for awhile, I can deal with having an annoyingly optimistic nurse like you.”

“Glad to hear it because you're stuck with me whether you want me or not,” retorted Yuuri.

Yuri rolled his eyes dramatically as he slumped against his pillows. “Ugggh, I take that back. I want a new nurse.”

*~*

“Shoot me,” moaned Yuuri, his head buried in his arms on the table and his food forgotten.

Phichit paused, forkful of food in front of his mouth. “You’re in the best place if you were to be shot, but I’m not risking my job.”

“Phichit I’m serious!” Yuuri ran a hand through his hair before propping his chin up on his palm, his brows furrowed as he watched his best friend blissfully shovel food into his mouth. “This patient is going to be the death of me. I don’t know if I can handle another shift dealing with him.”

Snatching a french fry from Yuuri’s forgotten plate of food, Phichit rolled his eyes. And Yuuri said _he_ was dramatic. “Isn’t he being discharged soon?”

“Not soon enough,” grumbled Yuuri. “Why does he keep taking his leads off?!”

“Because he has dementia?”

“That’s not the point!” Yuuri bit his lower lip in frustration. The majority of his shift that day had been spent corralling an elderly patient who continuously ripped the leads to his heart monitor off, which resulted in the alarm designated for when a patient was coding to go off. Yuuri had lost track of how many times he’d sprinted from the nurse’s station to his room, only to see the patient standing in the middle of the room with the wires to his heart monitor in his hand.

“I think that kind of is the point,” laughed Phichit. “Can’t you just restrain him if it’s that big of an issue? We’ve had to do that before when this one kid kept trying to rip his IV out.”

“I can’t just restrain a patient - wait, you had a kid rip out his IV?”

“He _tried_ to rip it out. Being the awesome nurse that I am, I caught him before it turned into a bloodbath,” bragged Phichit.

“So you were just doing your job,” deadpanned Yuuri.

Phichit gasped, placing a hand to his heart in mock mortification. “I resent that accusation!”

After a moment of staring at each other, the two men broke out into a fit of laughter at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Phichit was happy to see that the gloom seemed to have lifted somewhat from Yuuri’s demeanor, though he had heard through the grapevine that one of Yuuri’s long-term patients had been readmitted and it wasn’t looking good. If he could distract Yuuri from having to think about that, even if it was for a few minutes, he would be happy.

“So…” began Phichit, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Have you seen Dr. Nikiforov wandering around lately?”

Yuuri glanced up from his plate, blinking in surprise at Phichit’s question. “No. Why would he be on the floor?”

“...because he’s a cardiothoracic doctor? And last time I checked, you work in the cardiac ICU. Unless you’ve switched departments and didn’t tell me.”

As if in slow motion, Phichit could see the realization of the situation dawn on Yuuri. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a light pink before he buried his face in his hands. Phichit leaned back in his seat and sipped his water as he watched Yuuri process this new information.

“ _Ohmygod_ he’s on the floor,” breathed Yuuri. “Phichit, he could be on the floor right _now_!”

“And everyone thinks I’m the dense one.”

*~*

Victor sighed as he unceremoniously draped himself across the nurses station in the ER. His bangs fell into his field of vision, obscuring his view of Chris furiously typing a discharge summary for a patient. As much as Chris would never dare admit to it, Victor admired the amount of dedication he had to his patients, whether they were a frequent flyer or a new patient.

“If you keep sighing like that, I’m putting you to work,” quipped Chris, his gaze never leaving the computer screen.

Crossing his arms atop the cool surface, Victor laid his cheek against his forearm. “You don’t have the authority to do that.”

Chris shot Victor a scathing glare over the rims of his glasses. “Oh don’t I? How many years of seniority do I have over you here?”

“When do you think I’ll see that cute nurse again?” mused Victor, decidedly ignoring the look Chris was giving him.

Rolling his eyes, Chris turned his attention back to his computer. “Do you mean Yuuri?”

“Is that his name?”

“I swear you’re hopeless,” sighed Chris. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen him on the floor yet. Last I checked he works in the cardiac ICU.”

Victor’s eyes lit up at this news, his breath catching in his throat momentarily. “What shift does he work?”

“ _Mon amie_ , if I knew that don't you think I would have told you by now?”

“But didn’t you say you had worked with him before?” pouted Victor.

“That was four years ago, _mon chéri_. I haven't worked with him in ages, though I wouldn't mind seeing that cute butt of his more often.” Chris chuckled at the aghast look that crossed Victor's face at his comment. “Why don’t you just go upstairs and ask the charge nurse? They should have the entire department’s schedule.”

Victor straightened up from the desk, drumming his fingers on the counter top in thought. Chris was right; he could kick himself for not thinking of just asking the charge nurse for the staff schedule. Opening his mouth to thank his friend, he was interrupted by Chris’ pager going off.

“ _Fils de pute_ ,” swore Chris, his brow furrowing as he read the message on his pager.

“What’s wrong?”

“These residents page me for everything.” Chris slumped down in his chair, looking extraordinarily defeated. “‘How much Tylenol should I give them?’ I swear, I’m just going to tell them to grab a handful and throw them at the patient and see what sticks.”

Laughing, Victor waved away his friend’s dramatics. “You know you would never do that; you’re too good of a doctor. Don’t forget, we were residents too once upon a time.”

“We were self-sufficient.”

At that moment, a frazzled young man in scrubs and a lab coat ran up to the desk. “Dr. Giacometti, we need you in bay three right away.”

“Why?”

“Ah...that thoracentesis you had ordered? I think…” The young man swallowed nervously before continuing. “I think we may have punctured her lung.”

Chris didn’t respond; he merely rose from his seat and gestured for the resident to lead the way. One look at Chris’s face and Victor knew that was his cue to leave before Chris made good on his threat to put him to work.

“I’m going to leave you to it then,” said Victor quietly as he backed away from the nursing station. He slipped through the staff exit of the ER, but not without shivering at the eerily neutral expression on his best friend’s face as he entered bay three.

*~*

Scratching the back of his head, Yuuri shuffled towards his work station. It was finally the end of his seven-day stint; tomorrow was the beginning of a glorious week off for him to catch up on all of the chores and laundry he had neglected before having to come back and do it all over again. He had already given report to the incoming night shift and all he had left to do was finish up a couple of notes and he was free to go.

Turning the corner, he blearily registered that someone was sitting at his workstation. Irritation flared in his chest; it was an unspoken rule that you don’t use another nurse’s computer and this guy just decided that it would be okay to log him off? Clenching his fists to keep his irritation in check, Yuuri smoothed his features out into a polite smile just like he did with his problematic patients.

“Excuse me, but you’re using my computer.”

Yuuri gained a small amount of smug satisfaction when the man jumped. He was about to lecture this man - a new physician if his lab coat was any indication - when the man turned around and stared up at him with piercing blue eyes. Yuuri’s words died in his throat and his eyes widened in shock.

“Y-you’re Dr. Nikiforov,” he whispered.

A smile slowly spread across Victor’s face. “And you must be Yuuri Katsuki, correct?”

Yuuri nodded stiffly, his vocal chords refusing to cooperate with him. V ictor held out a hand and Yuuri stared at it, unsure of what to do.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yuuri.” Yuuri shivered at the way Victor’s mouth curled around the R in his name. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
>   * **Fils de pute** – "son of a bitch"
> 


**Author's Note:**

> Medical terms:
> 
>   * **Peds** – short of Pediatrics
>   * **LVAD** – [Left Ventricular Assistance Device](https://stanfordhealthcare.org/medical-treatments/l/lvad.html)
>   * **UNOS** – [United Network for Organ Sharing](https://unos.org/)
>   * **Status 1A heart failure** – candidates on the transplant list who have the highest priority based on medical urgency. (Read more about Status 1A vs 1B/status 2 [here](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3231539/))
> 

> 
> Come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mayelisa13)!


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